How to Take a Bath in Half a Bucket of Water

by Jamie Rhein on

When I went on a nine day trek in Ladakh , India a few years back there were adolecent girls on the trip. Somehow, no matter how remote a location we were in when we camped for the night, they managed to wash their hair. All I know is, they would head off somewhere into the distance and come back with towels wrapped around their heads. It was amazing.

When I was in the Peace Corps, though, I could take two or three decent baths with one regular size bucket of water. One of the assistant Peace Corps directors did show us some tips while we were in training by doning a bathing suit, filling a bucket and grabbing a large plastic cup with a handle. Since I lived in a village for two years with no running water–I hauled water from a well with a vegetable oil can bucket and a long rope, I became pretty savvy with water use.

Here are some bucket bath tips:

You will need.

  • One regular size bucket (not so big that you can’t carry it) filled with water
  • One large plastic cup or a small plastic pitcher that has a handle

The technique:

1. Stand close to the bucket, and dip your cup in the water. Stretch out your other arm (the one not holding the cup) so that your hand and fingertips are over the bucket of water. Pour the water over your head so that the water runs off the opposite side of your head over your shoulder, down your arm and back into the bucket. Keep repeating this proceedure lowering your arm little by little each time until one side of your body totally wet. To wet your back, stand with your rear almost over the bucket and pour the water carefully onto your upper back allowing it to roll over the rest of you. Some of the water will find its way back into the bucket.

2. Once one side of your body is wet, repeat the process but switch arms. When your body is totally wet, wet the soap by pouring water over it. Do not put the soap in the bucket. The idea is to keep the water soap-free.

3. Soap up. For the body rinse cycle, repeat the process in step 1, but don’t put your hand over the bucket. Let the water fall to the ground. Again, keep the soap out of the bucket. For best results and low water use, start rinsing at the shoulders and angle your arms and hands so that the water will roll off to another part of your body. Keep repeating the process until all the soap is gone.

4. To wash your hair–lean you head over the bucket and wet your hair by pouring water over it, but making sure the extra water goes back in the bucket. Shampoo and then rinse with your hair over the ground instead of the bucket.

If you follow this method you may have a half a bucket of water left–more than enough to wash the dishes or take another bath. The photo is thanks to Zac Shepherd on Flickr. If you click on his photostream you’ll see some shots of The Gambia and Senegal with captions. The bed in the photo is the kind I had as well which drew me to this picture. The caption mentions how bucket baths helped Shepherd survive the Gambian dry season. Yes, those were the days.

For an overview of people’s experience bathing in Ghana, check out World Wise Schools Water in Africa page. World Wise Schools is a Peace Corps program designed for use by educators.

A Canadian in Beijing: Capital Museum A Total Snooze

by Ember Swift on

I suppose if I weren’t so tired today our class trip to the Beijing Central Museum (or, ????????????: Shoudu Bowuguan) would be more interesting to me. As it stands, we’ve been here for two hours and I’m bored out of my mind. I’ve even returned to the bus early (the eventual meeting place) because I couldn’t stand the sterility of the experience any longer. My legs were so tired from the endless walking that I’m even sitting on the ground out here and, as you know, that’s not something I advocate in Beijing!

I’m just not into it. What does this say about me?

I’m actually really interested in history and I find stories of the past fascinating. I love to learn about the places I visit and how they have come to develop into what they are under my feet and before my eyes. Where a place has come from and how it has journeyed and why — I love that stuff. So, why couldn’t I get into this museum, I wonder?

The museum is a beautiful modern building made of glass and marble and full of architectural wonder. It has only been open in this current location since December 19, 2006. It is 60,000 square metres in size, five floors with escalators and elevators between each and it can accommodate up to 2,000 visitors per day. It’s majestic, really, and the photos really don’t do it justice.

It’s gorgeous. Every display is well-placed and “just so.” In fact, I think that’s the problem. I have this overwhelming feeling that this place has been over thought, and now the information being communicated about China’s history also seems over thought, as though a huge committee sat around a giant table both approving and vetoing what I should or should not be told as a visitor. Or perhaps it’s more like what I could or could not be told. I became more and more agitated by the descriptions of history with every room that I eventually just found a bench inside and watched people instead.

But, what do I know? My learning is as limited as the next person’s – it’s through my Canadian cultural lens, education, reading material, etc. – and so I can’t claim to know what “really happened.” Still, I know well enough that the rise of the republic in China was not all glory and accomplishment. There was no mention of what the people went through throughout this transition (i.e. “The Cultural Revolution”) or even what they faced throughout the “Great Leap Forward” campaign just following the end of Feudalism in China. I saw no mention of the destruction of historical artifacts, literature, cultural relics; no mention of deaths by starvation or long-term incarceration; no mention of the dislocation of people and families throughout both movements. At least, no mention that I could see in English.

The signs in English were not as complete as the signs in Chinese, either. I know enough of this language to know that, but my ability to read all of the history-related characters was pretty limited and so I had to rely on these English translations which were, of course, full of written errors. I was really shocked to see such mistakes in such an official building. This is the Capital Museum of Beijing! I’m shocked that these errors made it through and I do hope that correcting these is on the “to do” list before the Olympics. I’m sure they’ll have lots of visitors through this museum at that time who will require the English as much (or more) than I did.


[I wished I had some sort of guide, but the computer kiosks offering more detail were entirely in Chinese and I didn’t learn until later that I could have rented an English headset (like I did at the Summer Palace) to accompany my walk. Oh well, I suppose I was meant to experience it as I was and these are my honest impressions.]

Last night, I went out again with my musician friends and checked out live music at Mao Live House (and played a couple of songs too) and so I really didn’t get much sleep. After awhile, my fatigue and my irritation with these language errors (not to mention what seemed to me to be an incomplete reflection of historical events) combined to make me stop reading these annoying signs altogether. Instead, I wandered slowly and aimlessly, looking at displays and snapping pictures until even this lackadaisical passivity got boring.

What’s more, (if you’ll permit me to complain just once more about this museum!), the displays were hardly interactive at all. There were lots of paintings, wood/clay models to peer at as well as plenty of items behind glass, but there was very little for the museum goer to do besides wander and snap pictures. I’ve perhaps become spoiled by places like The Science Centre in Toronto, but I’d have to say that my one trip to the Beijing Capital Museum is plenty for me. I don’t need to go back.

Time to board the bus that will take me “home” to my quiet dorm room so that I can take a nap.

May as well continue this snooze fest!

Milk and Opium: An Expat Artist’s Success Story

by Jamie Rhein on

When I was browsing You Tube videos looking for what caught my attention, I came across the trailer for Milk and Opium. This clip captures the mood of a young male musician leaving a small village in India and traveling to the big city looking for success. That story alone interests me. The real reason this video caught my attention, however, is I know the back story about the director. Four years ago, Joel Palombo did a 10 minute conceptual art film, “Ranger Puja,” where a procession of people led by a tuba player carried a huge, and I mean huge, plywood cutout billboard style head and torso of The Lone Ranger to the Yamuna River in Old Delhi, India and floated it as an offering of sorts. The floating of the Lone Ranger was accompanied with floating candles in a Hindu style ritual until the Lone Ranger sank.

Early that morning, I stood on the bridge over the river taking pictures. This was an odd, wonderful kind of experience caused by a person using the arts to infuse two cultures in an unusual way in order to make a statement about spirituality and pop culture. The film’s message is left to the viewer’s interpretation. While Joel was figuring out how to get the Lone Ranger in and out of the water (after it sunk), people were fishing, washing clothes, collecting trash, etc. like they normally do every morning at the banks of this holy river, pollution aside.

Palombo, an American, has taught art at the American School in New Delhi for years and knows India well. Milk and Opium was a film he made while he was on sabbatical. For an interesting read, check out the link labeled “Product” of the Milk and Opium Web Site. Here, Joel explains how the film was made

Since then, it’s been on the international film festival circuit earning awards. He earned the Best New Director Award at the Brooklyn Film Festival in 2006. There have been other awards as well. In April it was at the Minneapolis/St. Paul International Film Festival. Just last weekend Milk and Opium was featured at the Monaco Music Festival. After coming across the trailer, I emailed Joel to ask him about upcoming showings. He said there are some in the future, he’ll let me know. Soon you’ll be able to order Milk and Opium from the website. I’d keep an eye out for more films from Joel. I’d say he isn’t done yet.

For those of you travelers out there, maybe you’ll come across something that appeals to your creative eye. Go for it.

The Trailer

Revisiting the Guy Who is Drinking Starbucks Around The World

by Jamie Rhein on

The guy who is traveling the world by visiting each Starbucks was in Columbus, Ohio yesterday. A Columbus Dispatch reporter wrote this short article about Winter. Like Cher and Madonna, Winter has just one name after legally changing it-probably, a good idea when one is searching out celebrity. Justin wrote about him in a post back in March. I read about Winter again this morning when I was drinking my own coffee brewed at home.

Just think. Starbucks drinking does appear to be one way to become a self-made celebrity. Winter is getting interviewed and a movie made about him. Neat idea. I’ll never be this kind of celebrity though. My problem is, I’d get bored. I’d visit, say, ten Starbucks and proclaim, “Nah! I don’t like the stuff. Not really.” This is true. I’d rather visit every White Castle and have their coffee; it’s cheaper and, I think, tastes better, but that wouldn’t take me much further out of Ohio than Northern Kentucky, and I’ve been there. I’d also wonder while I was sitting in a Starbucks what other interesting thing I might be doing, like visiting an out of the way place where Starbucks isn’t.

We did collect Starbucks mugs when we lived in Asia which I have to say are pretty cool looking. At three mugs (London, Bankok and Taiwan) it’s not the biggest collection, but their size make them stand out items.

I am curious about Winter’s Starbucks visits and the documentary that goes along with it. Unlike Coca Cola, whose icon is recognized everywhere as an every person’s drink, Starbucks, to me, is more elitist. At least Coca Cola has soft drink brands that match the tastes of each country’s population. (Visit the Coca Cola museum in Atlanta, Georgia and you’ll see what I mean.) Mind you, I’m not a big pusher of Coke products either. It’s just some musings here. I wonder as Winter travels if he notices that the crowd he’s hanging out with isn’t necessarily the every person crowd-but those who can afford a cup of java, and the price is over that of a cup of coffee in a New York City diner. The diner version generally comes with free refills. But then again, I drink White Castle.

The comments that accompany this photo of a Shanghai mug that was posted on Flickr by chubbo129 reflect a Starbuck dilemma.

A Canadian in Beijing: A Full Bodhi Massage

by Ember Swift on

A couple of days ago, I went downtown to meet with my friend Stuart. I took the subway, of course, and emerged into a brilliant sunny day to see not one, but three tanned Australian smiles waiting for me at the top of the subway steps at the Beijing Zhan stop. Stuart works for a travel company called Intrepid Travel and he had brought two of his customers along and declared that we were all going for a massage.

In Australian English, this word has the emphasis on the first syllable so that is sounds like “MASS-auge.” I smiled to myself when I realized how appropriate this emphasis was today. The four of us piled into a cab and drove across town where we all sat in the same room and were simultaneously massaged, en masse.

It was an amazing experience!

When we arrived, I realized that I was back in the section of town that was my first introduction to Beijing. Just down the road was the hotel I stayed at on my first night, Worker’s stadium was across the street, the place I first met my friend Traci was just moments away and the venue at which I played my first Beijing gig was about a five-minute walk west (Yu Gong Yi Shan). All in all, Dong Ti Bei Lou seems to be the place to return to. It was nice to see landmarks I recognized.

The massage parlour (are they still called parlours?) was down a small alley and off to the left and is called Bodhi. A beautiful glass-covered stairway with a gurgling pond, swimming orange fish, and a modern wooden staircase carried us up into a beautiful lobby where the attendants greeted us in English and Chinese. Stuart had already “booked us in” and we were taken in almost immediately.

It is custom here to be massaged by the opposite sex and so two male attendants and two female attendants were called to duty. We were led down a labyrinth of dark hallways past many doorways draped by flowing curtains that swayed as we passed. Eventually, we found ourselves in a private room at the end of a main hall that held six recliners along the same wall, each with a footstool. We were all told to take off our shoes and relax awhile. Drinks were offered and the lighting was only the small cracks of sunshine that snuck through the closed venetian blinds. I felt sleepy immediately. What a luxury in the middle of the day!

We all piled into a recliner each and chatted easily while the attendants gathered their supplies. They brought in four large buckets of coloured warm water that looked to be the colour of red tea or a tea tree lake – a sort of ruddy brown. We rolled up our pant legs and put our feet in the buckets that were placed before us and then we were instructed to rise, turn around and sit on the footstools facing the recliners.

Here in China, a lot of massages are fully clothed, which I suppose further encourages the “en masse” environment. It becomes more of a social thing and less of a private experience this way. I didn’t mind. I’m learning to appreciate a massage with or without clothing on! Besides, my attendant was so handsome that it would be hard for me to imagine not being clothed. I would be way too shy for that! (And yes, I do have my shy moments just like everyone else.) All of my previous massage experiences have been with female massage therapists in North America so China has been new in this regard. . .

Each massage therapist proceeded to give us amazing back massages. In fact, before long the room was silent. My attendant was so good at massage that I lost my ability to hold a conversation as I felt the tension draining from my muscles. He used his hands, arms, wrists, and even his knee to manipulate my back and arms and I was suitably pliable within minutes. Eventually, I broke the silence with a quiet one-liner: “Good idea, Stuart!” and everyone laughed.

After the back massage, we were all spun around and led into our recliners again and our legs were raised one after the other onto the stool and massaged up to the knee. At this point, we got to chatting with the attendants and Stuart and I were translating for the other two who didn’t speak any Chinese. The conversation was full of kindness and positive exchange as we learned where each of the massage therapists was from and picked up some good slang and tips about Beijing.

I even had the occasion to hand out my new “ming pian” (business cards) that I had made here a few weeks ago (200 for only 40 kuai! That’s only $5.50 Canadian!) because they began to ask me about my life here and I spoke openly about my music and my career. Perhaps I’ll have made some new fans? Who knows. Handing out business cards seems to me to be the standard way to connect with people here and so I didn’t hesitate.

Just over an hour later, we were all loose, calm and ready for a nap. The lighting was still dim and when the attendants left the room and had formally finished, we all stayed in those big chairs for just a few more minutes not wanting to leave the cocoon of comfort and relaxation. Eventually, we put our shoes back on and strolled to the front to pay.

These massages weren’t exactly the cheapest in the world (80 kuai per person, I believe it was) but it was worth it. In the end, that’s only $11.31 in Canadian dollars and I haven’t a single complaint about the experience. I’d definitely return to Bodhi in the future.

We followed that up with a walk to a nearby outdoor café where we enjoyed a cold beer in the afternoon sunshine. That’s a Canadian summer tradition that I miss here – a cold beer on a hot summer’s day – and so it was great to indulge in “yi ping pijiu” (one bottle of beer) before I had to leave to connect with another friend that evening.

I said my goodbyes and then walked smoothly away, gliding through the air as though my limbs were lighter than light. I’m not sure if that was the buzz of the beer or the remnants of the massage but I didn’t care. I smiled as I walked and got smiles in return from strangers.

Free smiles.

The best kind.